Because Hearts Get Broken

A promise

Taylor steps out of her car, the London August warm air hitting her. She makes her way to Harry's front door. She shouldn't be here. She definitely should not be here. This is not wise. But you couldn't help yourself, you thrill junkie. She admonishes herself.

Harry greets her with a nervous and hopeful smile as he opens the door.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," Taylor replies, stepping inside and feeling the inviting warmth of his home.

The living room is softly lit, giving off a cozy vibe that feels strangely comforting but foreign. Harry gestures and she sits down on a plush sofa.

"Would you like something to drink?" He offers as her eyes wander around the room and the inviting décor, a blend of contemporary and vintage art and furniture, that perfectly reflects its owner's personality.

"Sure, anything", she replies, facing him with a shy smile.

He disappears through an arched door and returns shortly with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He places them on the coffee table in front of her and sits next to her on the sofa.

He starts the conversation with a hesitant tone, shifting closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You were incredible tonight," he says, trying to break the intensity with a softer tone. "I'm really proud of you."

Taylor blinks, momentarily disarmed by his genuine praise. The compliment feels different to the usual compliments she receives. Maybe it's the set up or the man delivering it, but it feels more intimate, and it fails to calm her nerves, or the nudging feeling that she should probably leave before she gets in too deep.

"Thanks," she replies, her voice steady but with a hint of nervousness.

"This feels strange. I know that I know you but somehow I feel I don't," Harry admits.

Taylor's heart races, caught between her old feelings for him and their current estranged status. "It's been a long time. We're practically strangers now."

He nods, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "I know. That's why I want to figure out what this is between us now. If there's a chance to start over, or if we're just...chasing ghosts from the past."

She suddenly feels too close to him and stands up, her nerves heightened. She glances at him, missing him even though he is in front of her, that damn invisible string pulling her to him.

"Harry", she looks down at him, unnerved. "I'm not sure what I'm ready for, I can't promise, I... let's just see where this goes. For tonight, at least."

His face softens into a relieved smile. "That's all I'm asking for."

She feels momentarily freed from the pressure of having to decide about them right then and there and immediately relaxes, growing more comfortable around him.

He glances at her for a few seconds, his eyes casting that familiar calming effect on her. She smiles and giving in to his pull on her, takes her seat back next to him.

"Remember that time in New York?" Harry asks, pouring wine into their glasses. "We spent all night searching for the best pizza."

She laughs, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "You were on a mission to find the perfect slice, and we ended up at that tiny, hole-in-the-wall place in Brooklyn. I still dream about that pizza." She adds as she sips from her glass.

Their conversation flows easily from then as they reminisce about past adventures, sharing stories and laughter.

Harry leans back on the sofa, looking at Taylor with a soft smile. "You know, I never thought I'd get to relive these moments with you. It's like, all of a sudden, we're back to where we left off."